


Another Day

by tinamachina



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:58:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinamachina/pseuds/tinamachina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life of General Leo.  Takes place just prior to the events of Final Fantasy VI.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> For DOINK! Chocobo Races 2012: Rare Character/Pairing Month and for the prompt: _A day in the life of General Leo. Or more. How close is he really do other the other generals? When did he really start to doubt the empire? Go into as much or as little detail as possible, interaction with Kefka and Celes and Terra a plus._

It is another day for General Leo in the Imperial Army.  


He wakes up, just before the sun rises, as the gramophone “morning bugle” plays over the public address system. Without the scratchy blares of the vinyl record, it would be difficult to tell when exactly the sun rose, due to the thick clouds of industrial smoke that hung over Vector.  


Leo washes quickly in the shower and dresses. Every detail of his uniform needs to be perfect and polished, from his belt-buckle to his boots to the buttons on his coat, to the sword he proudly received from the Emperor himself.  


Before sitting at the General’s table in the Mess Hall, Leo, with his fellow generals Celes and Kefka, stand at attention and face the giant portrait of His Majesty, The Emperor, as the Imperial Anthem blares over the gramophone set in the Hall.  


Once the anthem is concluded, Kefka hastily bundles up his breakfast in a tin and, without announcement, quickly leaves the table. He never eats with the other Generals, choosing instead to eat alone in his workshop of horrors. Leo does not mind. Something about Kefka’s presence diminishes Leo’s appetite.  


Celes, on the other hand, is barely more talkative but much more soothing to the stomach. She and Leo barely talk about anything more than the business of the Army, about the expected orders from the Emperor. They do not talk about the Emperor’s plans to move north to the Duchy of Tzen. Whatever plans His Majesty had for the duke and his family, Leo does not like to think about it, or else the acid would churn in his stomach.  


If Celes is concerned about the impending invasion, she does not show it. She is like the ancient magical element that she had been infused with as an infant: ice, cool and pale and shimmering on the surface. Beneath her delicate façade, however, Leo knows that she is a lethal weapon, and not just because of her deadly skill with a blade. She is one of only two persons who survived Magicite infusion and the only one of the two that did not go batty because of it.  


After breakfast is his routine sword training. Celes is Leo’s training partner. They spend an hour sparing.  


Their skills are equally matched, and yet it was Leo who taught Celes how to swordfight. He was a grown man of thirteen years when he joined the army and a swords-master at the ripe age of sixteen years. At the same time, little Celes had been trained with mage’s staves and wands, but the child witch became enamored with Leo’s shiny steel blade. Leo knew how dangerous it would be for him if there was so much as a scratch on the Empire’s prize experiment, His Majesty’s “special princess”. But Leo saw something in the little “princess”, something special, and Leo agreed to teach her the way of the blade. They used wooden swords at first before moving eventually to steel. As feared, there were many cuts and bruises and tears. Fortunately, Celes knew enough Cure to patch up the wounds. Within a few quick years, to Leo’s delight and discomfort, he would need Celes’ Curagas more than she did.  


After training, and another quick wash, it is time to report to the Emperor himself. The Emperor is not an early riser; it is mid-morning when he emerges from his bedchambers to address his generals.  


Kefka has re-emerged from whatever shadows he was lurking in, bowing grandly to the Emperor and giving Leo a sideways glance. One of the Empire’s first experiments, and its first survivor, Kefka keeps an air of superiority, looking down his beak-like nose at Leo, the “plain, ordinary” general, as Kefka seemed fond of calling him.  


Leo greets him with as much politeness as was required. Kefka is nasty, arrogant and thoroughly unpleasant, but Leo is not about to dish any nastiness back. Leo smiles with pressed lips and bright eyes, masking his uneasiness.  


He and Kefka were two very different soldiers. They both enlisted around the same time. Kefka was only an above-average fighter, but he tested extremely high on the written examinations, his intelligence quotient estimated in the ninety-eighth percentile. Kefka was very smart, and very devious. He was soon prized as an “intelligence gatherer”, or a spy, in simpler terms. Those he “gathered intelligence” on were other members of the army, or members of the Imperial Court. It did not take much to keep Emperor Gestahl paranoid, and Kefka constantly filled his ears with whispers of treason or lack of total and complete allegiance from the Emperor’s inner circle. Leo watched uneasily as many men fell before the firing squads, without trial, without proof of guilt. Meanwhile, Kefka slipped into the vacant seats of the deposed, steadily ascending the ranks over the pile of dead bodies.  


Leo somehow escaped Kefka’s innuendos. Apparently, the swordsman was not worth Kefka’s notice.  


The Emperor gives his orders for the day: prepare the troops, mobilize the army to the north, prepare Project Salamander for her first assignment in Narshe, as the young, green-haired witch was called (Leo knows that the girl has a real name, but says nothing.)  


“Perhaps, Your Majesty,” Kefka says as he leans towards the Emperor, “General Celes and I should lead the charge into Tzen. Leo could help mop up the bodies.” He sneers at Leo, with that whooping laugh.  


“It would be best to keep the casualties to a bare minimum,” Leo looks straight ahead to the Emperor, as Kefka snorts dismissively.  


“You’re no fun,” Kefka taunts him. “No guts, no gore, no glory! And no balls!” Kefka laughs again, louder.  


Leo was offered the same Magitek infusion as Kefka, when the program first launched. Leo questioned the safety of the infusions; Kefka leapt at the chance to grab more power. The Emperor’s disappointment as Leo’s refusal could have been interpreted as lack of faith on Leo’s part. Somehow, Leo assuaged the Emperor’s suspicions with, “I am not yet worthy of such awesome and fearsome power.” Leo’s humility pleased the Emperor, and nauseated Kefka.  


After the Emperor dismisses his generals, the three split up to prepare their troops. Leo conducts drills with a couple hundred soldiers on the marching grounds. Leo barks orders as the young soldiers lunge with their swords and bayonets, moving as one solid unit. He watches for signs of strain and struggle as the soldiers pair off to spar. He reminds them to focus, be aware of their own body and weapon as they attack. He watches for who excels, and who falls in their own blood. Leo watches for who is ready for war, and pulls those not yet ready to the sidelines where the medics are prepared with bandages and Cure spells.  


Meanwhile, behind a steel wall, Leo can hear the roar of flames, the smell of burning flesh and the screams of men as Kefka prepares his “salamander” through one more round of “test targets.”  


Leo’s stomach sours. He knows that circlet around the green-haired girl’s head keeps her under complete mind control. He wonders if it also keeps her unaware that she has been killing hundreds of men since the age of thirteen. Following that logic, however, it is not really the girl killing men. It is the man controlling the device. It is Kefka pulling the trigger.  


Many times, Leo has been tempted to remove that awful circlet from the girl’s head. Leo could take her under his wing, be a friend, a brother to her, like he had been a brother to Celes. But if one were to remove that device, what would happen to that poor girl’s mind? Would she burn down the whole city, and everyone in it, for revenge? Would her mind even be strong enough to comprehend such horror?  


The sirens blare across the marching grounds, and Leo hastily lines up his troops. Celes, Kefka and their troops march in and join the line-up. The Emperor once again reappears before them.  


The Emperor gives the command. It is time to march north.  
***  


It is dinner time, and most everyone has returned to the mess hall, save a few injured soldiers.  


Once again, Kefka packs up his dinner, giddier than normal, his plate piled high. Bloodshed has stimulated his appetite.  


Leo and Celes slowly, neatly eat their meals. Celes does not talk. Leo does not talk. Leo does not know that this is the last time he and Celes will sit together at dinner, ever.  


Leo neatly hangs up his uniform and bathes for a third time, feeling extraordinarily filthy. He goes to bed early, and falls asleep late, his head heavier than the night before.  


Tomorrow will be another day.


End file.
